Two Halves DO NOT Always Make A Whole
by Carnage
Summary: There will be a lot of swearing on this, so that is the reason of the rating. The title ain't good, I know, but it will become clear soon... I hope not to be too long completeing this one.
1. Default Chapter

SmallVille: A New Point of View  
  
Authors note: Here I am again, Peoples! I have so many stories in progress now that I will be kinda busy, and also SAT's are around the corner, so don't expect updates every day! At best, it will be every week. Please R+R! And please, please, read my other stories, the reviews are drying up!  
  
Disclaimer: None of the following things are mine, I won't earn a cent from it, it doesn't belong to me (Except for Jessica), and I don't expect to be rang up in the morning by lawyers, the production company who make SmallVille, and such. Does anybody actually read that? If you do, please tell me.  
  
1 Prologue  
  
She stood at the edge of the town, and stared down at it. It glittered in the winter snow like a many-faceted crystal, full of light, hope…  
  
And new chances.  
  
It was the new chances that she hoped for, as the last town she had been at didn't give strangers a warm welcome. Here, though, she hoped it would be different. She wondered where she would stay the night.  
  
She stared up at the sign above her head, seemingly stretching to the sky, like a brand-new skyscraper in Metropolis. It had a simple slogan, which was how she liked it. Short, and simple.  
  
"SmallVille: Your path, to the future!"  
  
She smiled, and picked up her small bag of things. Out of it, she drew out a few pieces of paper, and a piece of parchment. She held them in different hands, and she stared at one intently.  
  
One piece of paper. That was all it was. But on this piece of paper, this small piece of paper, was all she knew of herself, her home, her family and her people. It was written in a strange language, and she could hardly read it, let alone understand it. She placed it carefully back in her bag.  
  
The other pieces of paper were written in English, a language she could understand. They were legal forms, her history, her police record, and her school report files. She had taken them from her last school at the dead of night, before coming here. She grinned.  
  
She looked into the distance, then ran, like a blur, into the city. The slogan on the billboard peeled a little, then settled back into place after the wind had rushed past.  
  
Five minutes later, the blur returned, and then retraced its steps toward the city. The bag, if it had been watched by human eyes, looked as if it just disappeared off of the path. But the only things watching were cows and sheep in the fields, and since their perception of time is even slower than ours, they didn't even notice the blur of colours. All they felt was the wind as it passed them.  
  
The woman zoomed through the city. Of course, to her, she didn't zoom. She knew of her abilities to move faster than any human, but she didn't notice anything except the slowing down of events. She had a theory about that, but it was hers, and she wasn't going to lose that.  
  
It was the only thing she had, her education. It was the most important thing to her, except for finding out who she was. She knew nothing, for all she remembered was falling from the sky with a meteor shower, miles from anywhere, and growing up in the forest she had fallen in. She was intelligent, and at fifteen she had noticed her abilities were not, well, normal. She had never contacted anyone, but she had moved through the town nearby at incredible speeds, and had learnt everything she needed from the school. She borrowed certain things like clothing, and had started something which was remotely like a life.  
  
But it didn't fit. None of it. She had learnt a lot, but not the art of human interaction. She would have needed friends for that, but at the school, she had found none. She was new, a freak, and people didn't want to know her. They didn't know where she had come from, and, if any of them had been truthful, they didn't rightly care. So, she had left the school and had become a freelancer, travelling from town to town, learning at schools and living off the land, until she felt uncomfortable and moved on. She usually got a job in each town, so that she could buy clothes and other amenities. She had learnt to tell the time by the time she was 16, and she learnt fast. Now, at the tender age of seventeen, she now knew about the same amount of information that an average seventeen year old knew.  
  
Now, she thought as she sped through the town, she had arrived at somewhere which felt to her like home. The farms gave her the nature that she so craved, whereas there was enough development in the town to provide for her. She would stay here a bit longer than usual, maybe, before she moved on.  
  
She grinned. She wondered what surprises the town would have for her? 


	2. Chapter 1

1 SmallVille – A New Point Of View  
  
Hi people, I am back! I have been very busy, so apologies towards all the people who have been waiting for me to update my stories. I am updating each story at a time, so as to increase the amount of material in each story, and possibly finishing them, before I move onto the next one. My hope is that I will eventually have all my stories at the same amount of chapters. I couldn't think of a better title, so Review! I think I have already given the disclaimer. Finally, just my own personal view on the final episode. It SUCKED! How, exactly, can they continue it?! They've practically tied up all the loose ends. Lionel dies, Clark saves Lana somehow, with her knowing what he is, Chloe is mightily pissed at Clark for leaving her, until Lana tells her about Clark, despite that Clark told her not to, that reporter is killed by the Tornado! I mean, come on, are they going to force-feed us the storyline?! Well, anyways, here it is!  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Clark woke up from his usual slumber, tossing and turning. He had had an unusual dream, but then again, he always had unusual dreams. This one had involved Lana, and Chloe, and a very large pile of whipped cream…  
  
He shook his head as he swung his legs over the side of his bed, shirtless, and reached groggily for his jacket that hung on the side of the cupboard. He scrubbed his face with his hand, as a lock of his dark hair fell over his square face, and felt a light layer of stubble on his chin. He worried about how he was going to shave, if knives couldn't penetrate his skin. He just hoped that the Excalibur shaver would do the trick.  
  
He stood up as his Mum shouted up, "Breakfast is ready! Come and get it, Clark, Jonathon! Clark, your bus will be here in five minutes!" She moved away towards the goodie-packed table, filled with apples, toast, jam, lemon curd, home-made apple pie and sausages, all placed so as to keep Clark and Jonathon away from the goodies if they were eating the sausages, as she heard a soft "whoosh!" come from Clarks room, and then a slight screeching noise behind her as Clark's large hand grabbed a piece of toast, still struggling with a sock in the other hand. Martha just had to grin. To put on a sock was a mothers job, even if her son just happened to have some… special qualities.  
  
"Here, let me do that," She muttered, as she grabbed his sock and got the 'grateful' face. She had catalogued at least 40 different images on Clarks face, and wondered how he actually moved his skin if bullets couldn't penetrate his skin. She grinned again as she finished pulling his sock up, and started on his shoe. She had a lot to do on the farm, but obviously, she didn't have enough, if she wondered about things like that.  
  
"Thanks, Mom," he said through a slight spraying of breadcrumbs. She handed him his back-pack, filled with Jam sandwiches, his favourite, and he disappeared in a ray of light and out the door. She had hoped he would have stayed longer, due to the large breakfast, but in any case…  
  
"Ahem," she grumbled quietly, and Clark zoomed back, gave her a quick peck on the cheek, and zoomed out the door again. She just had to smile as Jonathon came hopping down the stairs, gripping his sock, with a pained expression on his face.  
  
"Oh, give me that!" she laughed.  
  
Clark barely made it to the bus stop in time. He saw the bus moving along the lane, and stopped his super-speed at the last bend in the lane, where the driver saw him and stopped, waiting. Clark smiled at the dark-skinned, bald driver, as he pulled out his bus pass and panted as if he had been running hard. The driver grinned back, his teeth pearly white in the brown of his face, like a pearl in the middle of a chocolate cake. He knew Clark very well by now, and laughed at him as he sheepishly pulled his backpack onto the bus.  
  
"You should be getting up earlier, farm boy, or you might be waiting here a long time for me one morning!" he chuckled.  
  
Clark just grinned. "Well, maybe I'll just run faster, Alf. And ,anyway, isn't it your obligation to wait for me here?"  
  
Alf just laughed and slapped his leg. "You got me there, yes-siree! In any case, you might want to stop leaving your bag on the tractor at night. It looks like its been dragged at quite some speed, yes-sir." He pointed at Clarks bag, which was ripped and blackened in some places. Clark just shrugged, and forced a grin. "Yeah, I should hold onto it tighter." He knew that it wasn't the tractor, it was just he had been so concentrated on catching the bus that he had forgotten to check whether the straps had been on, and had dragged his bag to the bus at slightly faster than the speed of sound!  
  
Alf laughed again, and closed the door, and Clark sat in his seat as the bus started shuddering. He wasn't happy about the backpack. That was the third one in a month that he had ripped, once from speeding down the lane, one from pulling too hard on it on a very work-filled afternoon at school, and one from throwing it in the air and having it land on his forehead, full of books, on the farm. Of course, his head was fine, but the school books inside had been shredded. His Dad had been furious.  
  
"I'm not bothered about the bag, son," he had said in his deadly quiet voice, "but I'm more bothered about what you're going to revise from." Clark was sick of hearing that. "How's you're revision?" "What you going to take exams for?" Well, he was just going to take a combination of Pete's and Chloe's subjects, and at least have a friend in each class. And maybe Lana's books…maybe he could get tuition…he started drooling at the thought of being with LANA LANG alone, without that stupid necklace…  
  
His head hit off the seat in front, denting it, as the driver stopped the bus abruptly.  
  
"Well, lookie, lookie, what have we hear, little Missy? How'd you get here?" Alf shouted out the bus. "You could have got run over!"  
  
The doors opened, and Clark, being sorely interested, bent the metal bar of the seat in front, which he had dented, and looked down the aisle-  
  
-to see Lana Lang.  
  
He was shocked, to say the least. What was she doing all the way out here, in the middle of – he looked around him – fields? Why wasn't she at home?  
  
"I was – uh, I was driven here. By my guardian. She's at home, now, but she drove me here and dropped me off before going back to Metropolis. I've just started today." It sounded rehearsed, to Clarks ears.  
  
"Metropolis, huh? That should explain why you ain't got a bus pass. Well, get on, and don't run in front of a bus like that again!"  
  
"Yes, sir," she said meekly, and sat in front of Clark, her head down.  
  
Clark just stared at her as the bus rattled on.  
  
"Lana? You don't have –" he gasped as she turned at the sound of his voice  
  
She wasn't Lana, but she looked a hell of a lot like her. She had dark hair, and full red lips, but the hairstyle was different, and her eyes were a dark blue, not green. Also, she had a heart-shaped face, and her eyes were set much farther apart. Still, you would need a second glance. She tilted her head as she stared back at him.  
  
"I'm sorry, you appear to have me confused with someone else," she said quietly. "I don't think I've met you before." She extended her hand. "Maria Longsett."  
  
He took it. "Clark Kent." He shook her hand, and then retracted his hand. He grinned at her sheepishly. "Actually, you look a lot like a friend of mine at school. The resemblance is…uncanny."  
  
She grinned back. "Well, I hope you can introduce me to your friend. And maybe, show me around the school? I'm new, like I said. And furthermore –" She looked around the empty bus. " –how come you're the only one here?" she stared at him. He shifted uncomfortably.  
  
"Well, I live on the farm just a few kilometres back. I'm always the first on this bus before it starts going into town. So, what's it like in Metropolis? I've never been there."  
  
She grinned. "It's, well, big…" 


	3. Chapter 2

SmallVille - A New Point Of View  
  
More apologies! I had a look at the last chapter I put up and good god it was cramped! It wasn't like that in word, so sorry if u got confused, but I don't have the time to update old chapters. Sorry!  
  
Chapter 4  
  
By the time that the bus arrived at the school, the bus had filled up with jostling, whistling, bored teenagers, Pete among them. Chloe had her parents drive them to school, as she always had a huge amount of work for the Torch newspaper each school day. Pete had met Maria, and he was also taken aback by how much like Lana she looked. It was even his opening statement.  
  
"Wow! I mean, um." He bowed his head sheepishly as Maria turned her head away from the conversation she had been having with Clark.  
  
"Hello?" she asked, uncertainly. Clark came to her rescue.  
  
"Hiya, Pete. Maria, this is Pete, and Pete, this is Maria. Pete is my best friend, Maria. I have another at school, called Chloe. She's real nice, you'll like her," Pete's head still stayed bowed. "Won't she, Pete?"  
  
Pete started. "Yeah, Yeah, you'll like her a bunch."  
  
"Hey, move outta the way, homie!" a jock shouted at him as he pushed past. Pete, looking startled, sat down next to Maria.  
  
"You look-" Pete started.  
  
"-So much like Lana Lang. I know. Clark just told me about her. She seems - almost elevated." She grinned at Clark, who blushed.  
  
Pete also grinned. "Yeah, he does go on a bit, don't he? Between you and me- " he bent his head close to her, "I think he likes her just a bit."  
  
"Look, it's not like that!" Clark blushed further. "Anyway," he carried on hastily, "I need someone to help Maria on her way round school. Someone like."  
  
"Me," sighed Pete. "Oh well, I always-"  
  
"I'd prefer it," Maria butted in, "If I could go round with Clark today. He seems to be taking most of my classes today." She grinned at him.  
  
"How'd you know what classes I'm taking?" Clark asked suspiciously. "I haven't even taken my timetable out yet. Neither have you," he said, staring at her bag.  
  
"Well, I, um, I," she stuttered, flustered.  
  
"Oh, I know," Pete said, waving his hand in the air, which immediately attracted a spitball to it. Pete shook his hand. "That's not funny, Williams!" he shouted up the bus at a small kid reloading his peashooter. He grinned at Pete.  
  
"Ugh. I swear that guy is getting out of hand." Pete rubbed his hands on his trousers. "Anyway, I know how she saw your timetable, Clark."  
  
"How?" Clark asked.  
  
"She X-rayed your bag! Ha! Bet you can't beat that!"  
  
Maria whitened. "Excuse me?"  
  
"Well, you know, X-ray vision."  
  
Clark whistled. "Hard, but I bet I can. She.um.Maria broke into my house, and had a look at my timetable!"  
  
Pete shook his head. "Weak, Clark, but, yeah." He nodded.  
  
"Could I just ask what you two are on about?" Maria asked.  
  
"Oh, okay. We play a game see," Pete explained, pointing at himself and Clark. "And also our friend Chloe. See, loads of weird stuff happens in this town, so everything ordinary, we analyse and see if we can find another explanation of it. It's sort of fun. If it's good enough to be admitted by Chloe, she might even put the theory into the Newspaper. She's the editor." He swelled with pride, as if it was a good thing to know the editor of the local school newspaper.  
  
"Um, did you two know you're both sort of weird?" Maria asked, looking at them strangely.  
  
"Yeah, but it's a kind of weird we like," Pete said as the bus screeched to a stop at the school gates.  
  
In the schoolyard, Chloe was waiting for Pete and Clark. She tapped her foot impatiently, looked at her watch, looked at the sky, and sighed. They were always late. Why did she bother waiting for them?  
  
Because she was a good friend. Because they would both be disappointed. She sighed again as she came to the obvious answer. Because she loved the sight of Clark.  
  
Chloe knew she could never have him as long as Lana Lang was around, but she felt that she could dream. What else could she do? Wait until Clark realised he was drooling over his own dream? Go out with Pete? She shook her head. She knew Pete secretly harboured feelings for her, but she also knew that he would never act upon them, and she hated actually asking a boy to go out with her. She preferred spontaneous, go-get-'em type of guys.  
  
So why did she like Clark? She tapped her finger to her chin theatrically. Why indeed?  
  
She was saved from answering this question as the person in question came round the corner of the building. She quickly dropped her gaze, and started rummaging in her bag.  
  
Pete, Clark and Maria passed the corner of the building, and there was Chloe, rummaging in her bag to check, probably for the umpteenth time, in the small mirror she kept hidden whether she looked all right. He sighed mentally at the sight of her, but he knew he could never have her. She was hooked on Clark. He looked from Clark, to Maria, to Chloe. What was it with him? Was it the tall, dark and handsome thing or something? Pete never got many dates, but Clark had women throwing themselves at him, except for the one he wished would. His love, Lana Lang. He wished she would get her act together, dump the jock called Whitney, get it on with Clark, and then everything would be set. Chloe would be devastated, Pete would be the shoulder to cry on, boy gets the girl, etc. etc. Of course, he knew it would never happen. Chloe hardly ever showed emotion, even on some very drastic topic.  
  
Except for her articles. And the weird things that kept happening. He wished that he could find the cause of all the weird things, so he could prove to Chloe that he was an excellent newspaper reporter. Then maybe he could get her as his partner. The possibilities then.  
  
Chloe looked up from her bag, smiled her toothy smile, and waved. Clark waved back, and she dove her face back to the bag as they walked over. Pete grinned, and this was the first thing that Chloe saw before she shoved a stack of heavy newspapers into his open arms. He sagged under the weight, and then gazed in despair as she dumped more on top. He groaned.  
  
"How exactly do you fit this into your bag, Chloe?!" Pete grumbled as he staggered along after his friends, who had started walking toward the faculty. "It's the size of a small mountain, weighs about the same, yet you carry your bag easily and it never bulges! What gives?"  
  
"Stop complaining, Pete. This is my revenge for you two always being late," Chloe said, as she dug out newspaper clippings and dumped them on top of Pete's already full hands, closing his mouth off as he started to say, "What, so I get blamed for - Ump!" "Hi, Clark," Chloe said, and grinned extra wide, while Pete rolled his eyes. "Hi, Lana," She gave an extra special look of distaste at her, without really looking at her. "Now, today -" She was cut off by Maria.  
  
"I really need to see this Lana," Maria muttered.  
  
Chloe looked at her closely. "Oh, my, God, I am so sorry! You look so much -"  
  
"-like a friend of yours, I know. Clark mentioned it to me this morning. Along with Pete." She grinned at them both, but linked her arms with Clark's left one. Chloe scowled, but let it pass, for she was the new kid.  
  
"Well, welcome, kid," Maria scowled at 'kid'. Good. Now Chloe knew what to use in the future. "Right now, we have loads of work to do."  
  
"Chloe, um, sorry, but I have to show Maria around first. Enjoy, Pete!" Clark slapped the quivering pile of newspapers, which groaned. "See you later, Chloe." Clark walked off down the now full corridor, arm in arm with Maria."  
  
"Yeah, she'll get her man alright," Chloe grumbled.  
  
"What?" Pete spat out a few newspapers.  
  
"Hum? Nothing Pete. Onwards to the editorial room!"  
  
Well, What's it like?! Either it's the crash, or it's just my writing stinks, but either way, let me know! 


End file.
